


On My Own Before I Can Go Home.

by theatergirl06



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: F/F, and the executioners are back, don't worry it's not too bad this time I promise!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24638248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatergirl06/pseuds/theatergirl06
Summary: Fed up with the ones she loves being hurt, one queen decides to take matters into her own hands.
Relationships: Anne of Cleves/Katherine Howard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	On My Own Before I Can Go Home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! So...I realize I may have been a little unfair to Anna of Cleves in my constant writing of heroic K Howard (who I adore).  
> So have 3,000 words of Anna being a badass.  
> It'll make more sense if you've read We All Break Down, But Never at the Right Moments and Sometimes Safety is the Opposite of Saving, but you can read it as long as you know who the Executioners are!  
> TW: Fighting, blood, injuries, mentions of death.

It wasn’t often that Anna of Cleves found herself staring out the window on a Saturday afternoon, contemplating the meaning of life.

Sure, she wasn’t stupid, and no, she wasn’t a deep thinker, either. Like most people who weren’t named Katherine Howard or Cathy Parr, she was somewhere in between. She lived life, she went along for the ride, she thought, but she wasn’t a  _ thinker.  _ She would rather do things. There was no point in staying trapped inside your own mind when there was usually a solution (or at least a temporary one) to whatever problem or unresolved question you were thinking about.

She’d tried several times to explain this to Kat, who was one of the most thoughtful people Anna knew, but the pink haired queen had just shook her head, saying that the real solutions could be found inside yourself.

Anna thought that sounded like a bunch of hippie crap, but if she looked past that, there was reason in what Kat said.

She supposed that, in the end, they were both right in a way.

But on this particular Saturday afternoon, she wasn’t thinking about thinking versus doing. She was thinking about the Executioners.

She hated them. She hated them with a burning passion she couldn’t quite explain. She wasn’t like Anne, who lived life riding emotional highs and lows. Burning passion was rare for her, possibly even unheard of.

But when she thought about the Executioners, what they’d  _ done  _ to her and the people she loved, it made her feel as though she was burning up from the inside out. A tidal wave of emotion she didn’t understand. Maybe it was the price for not being as emotionally aware as Kat or Anne, maybe the Executioners just really sucked. Probably both, if she was being completely honest.

She didn’t mind the occasional fit of passion, so long as it was anger or maybe fear. Anger and fear were much easier to fight than grief and self-loathing. Anger and fear were things you directed outwards. They relied on your ties to others.

Sadness and self-loathing lived inside your mind and ate away like parasites, until they’d ruined you before you even noticed.   
But she wasn’t even thinking about that either.

The trouble with fits of fiery passion was that sometimes they...made it so that you were less likely to actually think things through. Which meant that, if you were a doer like Anna, you were  _ much  _ more likely to do stupid things and end up in danger.

Of course, not every time Anna had wound up in danger had been the result of recklessness. There were other reasons. She knew that.

But she hated when she had no one but herself to blame for whatever mess she’d somehow wound up in. She hated being in danger, period, actually. She hated the feeling of helplessness, of losing control of everything, of having to rely completely on someone else to come and find you.

That brought back some memories she’d much rather forget.

That wasn’t to say she wasn’t grateful to Anne and Kat for (repeatedly) saving her life, but sometimes it was just hard not to feel ashamed. After all, Anna was supposed to be the strong one. The one who didn’t break.

It wasn’t fair to ask the others to save her when she did.

All this was hovering in the corners of her mind as she stared out the living room window. The house was fairly calm for a Saturday afternoon. The queens were all there, but each queen had found a quieter, non-destructive activity, which was rare for the six of them.

Jane was trying to teach Catherine to knit, and the Spanish queen was trying to knit a scarf, but ended up covered in tangled threads of yellow yarn. Anna wasn’t the most emotionally intuitive queen (that was Kat), but even she didn’t miss Jane’s little smiles and quick blushes whenever she looked at the yarn covered Catherine.

Anne was over in the kitchen, which should have been a bad sign by nature, but for once, she wasn’t breaking something. She was making cake pops and seemed to be having fun, though Anna could tell that there was an awful lot of flour that had ended up on the floor and in Anne’s hair.

Cathy was trying to draw in a sketchbook, a hobby that Kat had suggested she pick up as an alternative when she didn’t feel like writing. Cathy had privately confessed to Anna that it wasn’t her favorite thing in the world, but that she was willing to try it for a little longer. At the moment, Anna could see a little glimpse of one of her drawings, and it was actually pretty good.

Kat was flopped over on an armchair across the room. She’d been reading a romance novel, but as she’d said, “You need to space out the fluff or you burn through it too fast.” Anna didn’t read romance novels, so she didn’t really understand what she meant, but if her girlfriend wanted to hang upside down on an armchair when she had nothing else to do, who was Anna to try and stop her?

Sighing, Kat flung herself off the chair (scaring everyone for a half second as she swung upside down and nearly landed on her head), and made her way over to the sofa, plopping down into Anna’s lap. It was a mark of her girlfriend’s growth since they’d first arrived that not only did she shy away from touch, which had been a trigger for her for the longest time (and who could blame her?), but now initiated it. Anna didn’t consider herself a touchy-feely hugger type person, but she wasn’t touch averse, and she certainly didn’t mind moments like these.

Kat grinned. “What are you thinking about? You look like you’re in another world.”

Anna smiled. “I dunno. My brain just sort of...wandered off and it’s bouncing from here to there.” She paused. “Does that make  _ any  _ sense?”

Kat laughed. “Welcome to my world. My brain never stays still.” 

“Neither does mine!” Yelled Anne from the kitchen. She’d managed to get melted chocolate all over her hands and was currently trying (and failing) not to drip it all over the kitchen floor.

Catherine rolled her eyes from her yarn covered position in the armchair. “Neither does the rest of you!”

“That’s fair!”

Anne began to laugh, but then winced and grabbed her head. Seeing this, Kat quickly leapt off the couch and ran over, clutching her cousin’s shoulders as they slowly made their way back into the room, sinking back into the sofa. Kat had a concerned look on her face, and Anna would bet that she was wearing the same expression.

“Anne, love, what’s wrong?”    
Anne groaned, pushing herself up so that she was leaning on the back of the couch instead of Kat’s shoulder. “I’m all right. It’s just...ever since those Executioners hit me on the head at that carnival a few weeks back, I’ve been getting these headaches around that cut.”

Kat pulled back Anne’s hair and peered at the very cut she’d been talking about. It was a bit bruised around the edges, but nothing appeared to be abnormal or worrisome.

Kat raised her eyebrows. “The doctor said you didn’t have a concussion. Maybe we should do some more tests.”   
“I really think it just struck a nerve. Literally, like an actual nerve.”

“But Anne, you’re in pain.”

“I can live with it.”

“But it could be dangerous.”

Anne sighed. “Look, Kat, if it is dangerous, there’s a part of me that just doesn’t want to know. Is that so bad?”

Kat put her hands on her cousin’s shoulders. “I know it’s scary, but it’s better to know now.”

Catherine came over from the armchair. “Let me see. I took that First Aid class last summer, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. You said the dummies didn’t provide an accurate example of being dead.”

“They didn’t  _ look  _ dead!”

“Okay, okay. Can you  _ please  _ help Anne now?”

Catherine’s features softened. Though they weren’t particularly close, it was well known in the queens’ apartment that Catherine had a soft spot for Kat. Then again, most people did. It was just that some peoples’ soft spots weren’t so soft after all.

The Spanish queen peered at the cut on Anne’s head. “Oh, I see. The bruising around this cut isn't serious, but since the human head is so sensitive and connected, it feels like a headache whenever it’s irritated at all.” She turned to face Anne. “You’ll be fine. At least, as fine as the woman who painted my bedroom green without asking will ever be.”

“It looked better that way! You know it did!”

Beside Anna, Kat breathed a sigh of relief. Anna should have felt relief, too, but all she felt was that same passionate rage. 

They shouldn’t have had to worry about Anne in the first place. She shouldn’t have been hurt. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t  _ right. _   
She realized Kat was staring at her. “Hey, are you alright?”

Anna sighed. When she spoke, her tone was much harsher than she’d intended. “No, Kat, I’m not  _ alright. _ These people shouldn’t be doing things like this. They can’t!”

“Okay, please try to calm down. Take some deep breaths.”

“No! I’m not going to calm down! This isn't right, Kat! We can’t let them go on like this!”

Kat froze, turning pale. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we need to stop them! All of them! Right now!”

She realized the other queens were all staring at her. “What? We can’t just wait around and let them kill us!”

Jane cleared her throat. “Yes, but...going after them seems a bit…”

“Risky,” said Cathy. “Really, really risky.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Babe, it’s a dumb idea. We’d all get killed.”

“No we wouldn’t! We’ve beaten them before! We can do it again!”

“Yeah, but that was in small groups.”

Kat circled her fingers around Anna’s wrist, gently but firmly. “Anna, we’re just trying to make sure you don’t get hurt. We don’t want  _ anyone  _ to get hurt.”

“Why, because I’m stupid enough to actually fall into their traps?”

“Don’t talk to my cousin that way!”

“Anne, don’t worry about it. Anna, no, of course not!”

But Anna had heard enough. She wrenched her wrist free of Kat’s grasp and started towards the door. “Look, if you don’t want to protect each other from this, then I’ll do it myself.”

And she slammed the door shut behind her and headed for the streets.

She expected to feel lost, truth be told, but instead she just felt energized. Seeing a man with a motorcycle, she strode over, brimming with confidence.

“Is that motorcycle for sale?”

“No, ma’am.”

“How about for rent?”

The man’s eyes glinted in that greedy “I want money” sort of way. “For a price.”

“What’s the price?”

He squinted at her. “You’re Anna of Cleves, right?”

“Maybe. Why do you want to know?”

The man’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Well, it’s just...I’m a huge fan. I’ve been a history nerd since I was in middle school, and then your show came back, and…” he took a nervous breath, “will you take a picture with me?”   
Anna had to keep herself from laughing. This man who looked like some sort of gangster from one of those old movies was actually a history nerd who wanted a selfie? Priceless.

Nonetheless, she was soon driving around the streets of London on a motorcycle, the wind whipping through her hair as she went. 

At this speed, it didn’t take her long to find the Executioners. They were all headed for the same building, a tall skyscraper in the middle of a run down neighborhood. 

She put the motorcycle on quiet mode and followed them, slipping in and out of the shadows, praying nobody saw her.    
Just before she reached the front door of the building, she paused.

A lot of the setups from the Executioners that she had run into had looked an awful lot like this. But she wasn’t going to fall for their tricks again. Not this time.

So instead, she saw a ladder on the side of the next building that soon connected to the skyscraper’s balconies. It would be a little dangerous, but nothing about this wasn’t dangerous.

She began to climb. It seemed to take hours, but at last, she reached the rooftop.

The entire rooftop deck was full of Executioners, each one crowded around some sort of machine. It looked a bit like a cauldron, except it was hooked up to a giant computer.

Anna ducked behind a large potted plant and surveyed the scene.

The same tall woman Anna had seen a few times was at the head of the crowd. She raised her hand, and the Executioners fell silent. 

“My pure people! Are we ready to rid the world of these abominations?”

The crowd cheered. The woman cleared her throat and they fell silent yet again.

“As you all know, the details of this plan have been kept a secret, but now all will be revealed.” She paused. “To destroy these abominations that defy death, we must create one of our own.”

She flipped the switch on the computer, and the horrifyingly familiar face of one redheaded king filled the screen.

Chills ran down her spine.

“Now this, as I’m sure you all know, is Henry VIII. He may not be a master at many things, but he’s a master of killing and manipulating these...things.” The woman grinned. “We’ve created the technology, combined with a bit of magic, to bring him back from the dead!”

The crowd fell silent. Anna had to cover her mouth to keep herself from gasping. 

A man raised his hand. “But isn't that just another abomination?”

The woman smiled. “You might think so. But this thing will undoubtedly kill the rest, and one vile thing that we brought back is better than six who came back on their own.” She grinned. “We just need one more thing.”

A voice echoed through the crowd. “And what’s that?”

The woman smirked devilishly. “We need the corpse of someone who knew him.”

Suddenly, hands grabbed Anna from behind, pinning her arms behind her back and pulling her up to the front of the crowd. The Executioners cheered.

The woman stared down at her with a condescending smile. It was the same woman who had tried to kill her a few months ago. Anna was pleased to notice a scar on her forehead in the shape of a violin bow. 

“It’s nice to have you with us, Miss Cleves.”

But Anna didn’t hear her words. Her mind was already gone. It was as if the whole world had slowed down.

Anna wasn’t a fighter. She wasn’t a violent person. She went out of her way to avoid conflict of all kinds, especially inside of herself. That was what kept leading her to the Executioners. When she lost control of all the inner conflicts she kept avoiding in order to stay strong, things went wrong. And she ended up here, in danger and looking for a fight to get all the emotions out of her.

But this time was different. This time her emotions had brought her here again, but this time, she wasn’t going to avoid them, or the fighting. 

Because if she died, then so would the queens. Her family. 

There was only one thing to do.   
Anna of Cleves could not die here. She refused to.

So she didn’t break, and she didn’t let anger and recklessness take over.

Instead, she fought. She fought with every last bit of her strength, and she fought every single person in that crowd. She felt pain, but it was numb. She wasn’t fighting for the pain. She was fighting for her family, her home, and for herself. To help herself understand that lack of weakness wasn’t what made you strong. She’d been weak when she’d come here. But she’d overcome it for a cause she believed in.

And that had made her stronger than ever.

At long last, she stood alone at the edge of the rooftop. She took the potted plant she’d hidden behind, and she smashed the machine to bits.

Henry wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

The haze of the fight was only just starting to wear off as she climbed back down the building and mounted the motorcycle.

Riding through the streets of London, she realized just how dark it was. It must be well into the night by now.    
Just how long had she been fighting? 

There was a sudden stabbing pain in her left leg. She looked back.

She pulled the motorcycle to a stop and took a look at herself. 

Her right ankle was swollen, possibly sprained. There was an enormous gash running down her left leg. There was a cut on her right arm with a shard of glass sticking out. She was covered in bruises. Her lip was bleeding.

It had been worth it. But she needed to get home.

So she took the motorcycle and rode, slowly and carefully, through the nighttime streets. 

Pulling up to the apartment building, she froze.

She’d probably scared them all before she left. They probably thought she was dead.

She owed them an apology, she knew. But she wasn’t going to be afraid to give it.    
She winced as her right foot twisted. The rest of the deep thinking could happen later. For now, she was struggling to walk. 

And for the first time that day, her mind entered her head and stayed there.

After an agonizing trip up the stairs, Anna knocked on the door, leaning on the doorframe.

It opened and Kat was standing there. She looked exhausted; her face pale, her hair flying everywhere. Her eyes were red, as though she’d been crying.

Her eyes travelled over Anna’s arms, face, and legs, taking in all of her injuries.

She didn’t ask what had happened. She didn’t ask for more deep thoughts.

She just wrapped her arms around her and squeezed gently. It should’ve hurt, but it didn’t.

“You’re home.”

They sank to the floor, Anna using her foot to close the door behind them, shutting out the outside world for now.

“I’m home.”


End file.
